The Last Journey
by Berende
Summary: Will has begun his errand and taken the place of Davy Jones. He's just started when he meets a familiar face among the dead... AWE spoilers.


Will was leaning to the rail and watching the dead sail by. It was dark. It was always dark. Only the candles of the little boats brought some light into his world. He hadn't been ferrying the dead for long; it was only a week since he had left Elizabeth and come. He had been saddened by the multiple number of lost souls which had greeted him there. Many had not found the right way without help.

None of the dead looked at Will. He was glad of it. He lived under constant dread of seeing someone he knew sail past and meet his eyes. But he knew that wasn't the way of the dead. They never looked at him or his ship. He was like a ghost to them.

He kept an eye on his flock, as he called them. That's what he considered himself; a shepherd guiding a flock of numb sheep to the other side. He watched their expressionless faces and solemn eyes. He met the eyes of a man. He was looking straight at him.

Will stared. He did not know this man; at least he didn't remember ever seeing him. The man was sailing rather close to the Dutchman. His pale blue eyes were fixed on Will. He had a long, tangled and greyish beard and hair of similar colour. His features were proud and noble and his hat looked very familiar.

Will frowned. Why was the man looking at him? It wasn't usual. Not knowing what else to do he greeted the man with a nod and the words "be in peace". The man smiled vaguely.

"Do you not know me?" the man asked with a slight smile. Will opened his mouth but said nothing. He looked closely at the man. There was a familiar sound to his voice and his eyes tried to bring back memories. Will's eyebrows shot up as he recognized the man.

"Davy Jones?" he said incredulously. The man smiled.

"Couldn't you guess that I would be here?" Jones asked calmly. Will made no reply, he was too stunned even to nod or to shake his head. He was looking at his killer straight in the eyes. Then again, Will thought, so was Davy. In a way.

"I know the way", Jones said, glancing to the darkness into which he was going, "but I waited to see you." He looked at Will again.

"Thank you", said Will bluntly in want of a better reply. Davy smiled vaguely again.

"I'm not surprised that you didn't know me", Jones said. "I hardly knew meself when I arrived here. The curse must be broken", he added more to himself than to Will, "death does strange things." Will noticed that Jones's voice had suddenly become very sad.

"Davy Jones, do you fear death?" asked Will. His manner was not scorning, not victorious, not even bitter. He asked it because he wanted to know the answer.

Jones smiled at him, remembering the numerous times he himself had uttered those words. He lowered his eyes on the boat with a sorrowful smile.

"No", he said. "I know what's waiting for me. I've had time to prepare meself for it when waiting for you here. Eternal suffering... true, I dread it. But How can I fear death when I have already died?" Will smiled at him feeling slightly sorry for him.

"Are there two sides?" Will asked him after a while. "Is there Hell and Heaven?" Jones looked at him.

"I do not know", he said. "Captain Turner, you shall never find that out. Such is the fate of yours; never to die, never to know. I will know soon." Will nodded.

"You will last longer than I did", Jones said quietly after a pause. "But what will you do when she sails here? She cannot live forever." Will eyed the flock.

"Do I have a choice?" he answered. "It is my task now and I will not abandon it." He looked in his eyes with a meaning. Jones looked at him with a sad smile.

"No need to accuse me, mate", he said. "I know very well what I have done. Perhaps, had I kept guiding them, I could have met her again. But it was too much... too _much_... " he looked at Will and would have cried if he had had any deep feelings left. But he was dead and the dead lack the ability to feel like the living.

"We're almost there", Jones said after a while, gazing into the darkness. Will nodded. He watched Jones's solemnity and could not hate him. Jones had killed him and caused him agony, but he could not find it in his heart to hate him. Maybe it was because of his position, maybe he could not hate any part of his flock; but he knew Jones had lost all his menace and was nothing but a vague form of a man. And he would get what he deserved.

The Dutchman halted and the little boats sailed slowly by. Davy Jones looked at the ship and then turned his eyes on Will.

"Honour her", he said fondly and turned to look at the darkness ahead. Will stared after him and saw him disappearing into the darkness, not knowing whether he had meant the ship, Elizabeth or the Sea with his last words.

The Dutchman turned around and sailed silently away.


End file.
